


If it ain’t broke…

by stjarna



Series: If it ain't broke... don't fix it [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU, Bus Kids - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Leo Fitz & Skye | Daisy Johnson Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 22:30:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11300163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: For theFitzsimmons Fanfic Contest” Angst VS Flufforganized by @fitzsimmonsforlife. [This is the fluffy version, in case that wasn't clear.]Prompt: “What makes you think this was an accident?”





	If it ain’t broke…

“Well, if it isn’t Jemma Simmons!” Daisy exclaims loudly from the front desk, tilting her head in Fitz’s direction, her eyes rolling so far to the side that Fitz can barely see anything but the white.

“Daisy. Lovely seeing you again.” Her smile, as usual, is wide and beaming, her voice laced with the beautiful English sing-song Fitz had become so accustomed to over the past few months since she’d started coming to the store.

Fitz gets up from his desk, tucking his hands in his pockets and smiling shyly at the biochemist from the laboratory three blocks down. “Hi, Jemma.”

“Fitz.” She tucks a strand of her wavy brown hair behind her ear and the ceiling lights catch her eyes just right, causing them to sparkle brightly.

“Whatcha got for us this time?” Daisy asks, pulling her lips into a closed grin.

Jemma puts her shoulder bag on the counter, zipping it open and pulling out her laptop. “I spilled tea all over my keyboard, if you can believe it.” Jemma shakes her head ever so slightly, smiling in embarrassment.

“Oh, I believe it,” Daisy replies and Fitz wrinkles his forehead, confused over his co-worker’s smugness.

“I hope it won’t be too much trouble fixing it.” With a shimmer of hope in her eyes, Jemma stretches out her arms, holding the laptop in front of her.

“Won’t be a problem at all.” Daisy turns, slapping Fitz on his back. “Fitzy here will take care of it for you as per usual.” She spins on her heels and leaves for the break room. Fitz follows her with his eyes, still not quite sure what’s gotten into his friend today.

He turns back to look at his favorite customer when her voice pipes up quietly. “I can’t believe what a klutz I’ve been lately.”

Fitz smiles and takes the laptop from her, opening it and glancing at the keyboard, before closing it again. “Well, you sure are keeping us in business.”

“That I am.” It’s strange how raspy her voice suddenly sounds, and there’s a sparkle in her eyes that makes Fitz’s stomach twinge a little.

Fitz clears his throat, forcing his mind to return from a rather embarrassing fantasy back to reality. “Why don’t you check in again Thursday? I think I should be done by then. Do you have a backup drive, in case I need to start from scratch?”

“Yes. I do.” Jemma nods and begins rummaging through her bag, eventually retrieving a small backup drive and handing it to Fitz. “Luckily, I had just done a fresh backup before it happened.”

Fitz places the laptop and backup drive on his desk before returning his attention to Jemma. “Lucky you.”

Her eyes widen ever so slightly, and there’s a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “Aren’t I just?”

Fitz notices the left corner of his mouth ticking up as if by reflex. “Well, Thursday then?”

She bops her head affirmatively. “Yes. Thursday.”

* * *

* * *

“Whoa,” Daisy exclaims, taking a step to the side and narrowly avoiding a collision with Jemma.

“Oh, Daisy. Lovely seeing you again. Gotta run though. Lunch break’s almost over,” Jemma blurts out hastily in passing, gesturing down the street in the direction of her lab.

“Have a nice day!” Daisy calls after her, before stepping fully into the store, slowly walking to the counter, staring at Fitz wide-eyed, her mouth slightly ajar.

“That my tea?” Fitz asks, pointing at one of the to-go cups Daisy is carrying.

She hands him his cup wordlessly, and Fitz takes it, carefully opening it, before blowing on the piping-hot drink.

He looks up, squinting at his friend in mild confusion when he notices that her expression hasn’t changed.

“Wha—?” he asks, shrugging slightly.

Daisy gestures over her shoulder with her thumb. “She was here _again_?”

“Yep.” Fitz attempts to take a sip of his tea before deciding that it’s still too hot.

“She just picked up her laptop last week. What happened this time? Did it catch fire?”

Fitz picks up Jemma’s smartphone off the counter, waving its chewed up and broken screen in the air. “Her dog thought her phone was a chew toy. Woman’s really not lucky with her tech devices. One accident after the other.”

“What makes you think this was an accident?”

Fitz’s not quite sure what to make of Daisy’s scrunched up nose and squinty eyes.

“What?” he asks befuddled.

Daisy stretches out her hand, palm-up, waving her fingers towards herself. “Gimme!”

Fitz wrinkles his forehead in confusion, but complies with Daisy’s demand, handing her the phone.

She turns it back and forth before bringing it up to her nose, sniffing loudly.

“Have you gone bonkers?” Fitz asks, staring at her in disbelief.

Daisy holds the phone up, her eyes wide and manic. “It smells like peanut butter!”

“What?”

“It. Smells. Like. Peanut. Butter,” Daisy repeats slowly.

Fitz’s shoulders rise to his ears as he gestures at Daisy with both hands, shaking his head in utter bewilderment, his mouth open but void of words.

“She smeared. Peanut butter. All over her phone.” Daisy’s eyes almost seem as large as plates although Fitz’s fairly certain his own match them in size by now.

“Why the hell would she do that? That’s ridiculous. Have you lost your bloody mind?”

Daisy’s hand shoots forward, waving the phone right under Fitz’s nose. “She smeared peanut butter all over her phone so her dog would chew it to shreds, so she could bring it here, so she could give it to you, so you could repair it, so she could come back and pick it up and return three days later with another tech emergency, because you nitwit are too blind to realize that the young, brilliant, drop-dead-gorgeous Brit you have a crush on might be crushing pretty hard herself… on you.”

For a moment, all Fitz can do is stare at his friend, like a deer caught in headlights. “Whanow?” he mumbles, barely above a whisper.

Daisy slumps her shoulders. “Dude, first time was real. Her motherboard was fucked. But then? Co-worker knocks her phone out of her hand and it goes flying?”

Fitz shrugs. “Happens all the time.”

Daisy tilts her head to one side. “Yeah, but that phone looked like it’d been thrown out of a six-story building, then hit with a sledgehammer.”

Fitz stares at her silently, swallowing hard, his throat suddenly feeling strangely tight.

Daisy continues, using her fingers to count. “Then her computer catches a virus… even though she has a virus scanner installed. Then she brings her co-worker’s broken laptop, ‘cause he apparently can’t use Google Maps to find our store.”

Fitz points at Daisy, feeling as if he’d finally come up with a counterargument. “She was on her way to get a sandwich for lunch and wanted to help out a friend, spare him the way.”

“There’s a sandwich shop right next door to her lab.”

Fitz pauses, before once again gesturing at Daisy, but unable to stop himself from stuttering slightly, feeling less confident in his defense. “M-maybe their sandwiches are rubbish?”

Daisy squints, disapprovingly. “It’s the store where we get our sandwiches from, including the prosciutto-mozzarella one of which you said, and I quote, ‘This sandwich is so good, if it kills me, it’ll still have been worth it.’”

Fitz’s eyes wander to the phone in Daisy’s hand as his head begins spinning. He looks back up, when Daisy continues her list of grievances.

“Then she spills tea all over her laptop, but luckily made a backup _just_ before it happened. And now her dog—that I distinctly remember she said has taken several obedience classes—chews up her phone… which smells like fucking peanut butter. Dude, do the math!”

* * *

* * *

“All fixed,” Fitz exclaims, smiling widely and waving Jemma’s phone in the air when he sees her entering the store.

Her hand flies to her chest. “Oh, Fitz. What would I do without you?”

She stretches out her hand and accepts the phone from him, inspecting the brand-new casing and screen.

“Ask Daisy to fix your stuff?” He immediately regrets his joke when he notices her smile fade.

She lowers her head, suddenly very focused on the contents of her purse. She pulls out her wallet and wordlessly hands Fitz her credit card. Her smile seems forced and the hint of sadness in her eyes makes Fitz sigh.

He runs her card through the reader and hands it back to her, holding on to the corner a bit longer than strictly necessary.

“I… I programmed my contact info into your address book,” he admits, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction.

“Oh.” Her eyes widen just a little in surprise.

Fitz nods, trying his best to keep up his confident outward appearance while his heart beats nervously in his chest. “Yeah. Work phone. Private mobile. E-mail.” He clears his throat, shrugging slightly. “You know, if… if you ever run into a tech emergency over the weekend or after hours or something. You could just give me a call.”

“Oh,” she repeats, as a hint of a smile flashes across her face.

Fitz tucks his hands in his pockets, his gaze falling to the counter as he feels a wave of heat rising up his cheeks. “You know if… if your smartwatch falls into a jar of peanut butter or something.”

He lifts his eyes without moving his head and can’t stop the corner of his mouth ticking up when he sees her deer-in-headlights expression.

“Peanut butter?” she mumbles quietly, clearing her throat and staring at the phone in her hands. “I thought I’d cleaned it off so well.”

Her hand shoots to her mouth as if she could push the words back and make them disappear.

Fitz can’t help but laugh quietly over her flustered reaction. “Daisy noticed it. I swear that woman has a nose like a bloodhound.”

“Oh. I… I… I don’t know what to say.” Jemma shakes her head in obvious embarrassment. “Somehow I couldn’t find the courage to… which is _very_ odd, because I’m usually quite forward when it comes to romantic advances, but somehow with you—”

“Well. If you ever get up the nerve—” Fitz lifts his chin in the direction of her phone. “You got my number now.”

Her lips pull into a wide smile, but her lips remain sealed, causing her nose to scrunch up rather adorably. “I do, don’t I?”

“Yep.”

She sighs, turning around, preparing to leave, before seemingly changing her mind. “Or. Maybe I could save us some time and trouble and just invite you over for dinner straight away? Friday night? I could cook and we could watch a movie on Netflix, if you’d like? K9 loves company.”

Fitz furrows his brows. “Your dog’s name is canine?”

“Yes, K… 9” She draws the letter _K_ and the number nine in the air. “It’s a Doctor Who reference. There are these robotic dogs in the show and—”

“They’re called K9.” Fitz scoffs, grinning one-sidedly. “Should’ve known you’re a Whovian.”

Jemma pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of peach. “Is that a deal-breaker?”

Fitz sighs, shaking his head vigorously. “Definitely not.”

“Excellent.” She beams at him excitedly, waving her phone in the air. “I’ll text you my address later.”

Fitz nods, ever so slightly. “See you Friday then.”

She turns to leave without fully taking her eyes off him, almost colliding with Daisy, who manages to swerve out of the way, balancing two to-go cups in her hands.

“Oh. Hello, Daisy,” Jemma stammers, surprised, before heading out the door, still smiling widely.

“Bye!” Daisy calls after her, before her head shoots back, staring at Fitz wide-eyed as she slowly approaches the counter. “So? What happened?”

Fitz’s cheeks burn from grinning so widely. “Got myself a date for Friday.”

“Yes!” Daisy exclaims, her eyes doubling in size.

Fitz slumps his shoulders in pretend disappointment. “Bad news is, we probably just lost our most lucrative customer.”

Daisy tilts her head side to side as if weighing her options, before shrugging her shoulders, stretching out her arm to hand Fitz his tea. “I can live with that. Your happiness is more important to me than my riches.”


End file.
